


Crumbling

by GreySkyye



Series: Unrelated Challenge Fics of Doom [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, Team Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 05:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreySkyye/pseuds/GreySkyye
Summary: Suga's job as the vice-captain is to support his captain no matter what, so that Daichi can give the best version of himself to the team. He's determined to do that even when it runs counter to his own interests and breaks his heart. If he can heal the rift between his captain and his ace he'll be happy with that. His own complicated feelings on the matter are irrelevant.





	Crumbling

**Author's Note:**

> This feels somewhat unfinished to me - because it is. I wrote it as part of a challenge for myself and the "rules" were that I only worked on this for one sitting. I think it ends in a decent place, and I like it; it just feels like a nice prologue. I like the idea, and I like the dynamic I sort of have working here, so I might come back to and add another story later if there's interest in that.
> 
> The prompt for the challenge was "anger."
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](https://greyskyye.tumblr.com/)

“It’s a problem.” The words dropped between them like a stone into a pond. Suga watched ripples of anger and denial float over the surface of Daichi’s calm. This had been a touchy subject between them ever since Asahi quit. Ever since Suga had torn himself up with guilt and desperation to get Asahi back and Daichi had walled himself off from the sense of hurt and failure, and neither of them knew what to do about it.

 

Blankness, a hard-edged determination shuttered over Daichi’s features; that familiar wall going up. “It’s not.”

 

Suga was so sick of this, so sick of both of them, honestly, and he didn’t bother to keep his frustration from boiling over. “You cannot be serious,” he bit out. There was no way that Daichi hadn’t noticed the lingering bitterness in all his interactions with Asahi. No way he hadn’t noticed that he treated their ace differently than he treated everyone else.

 

Daichi shrugged, but it was stilted and jerky, and the usual openness of his expression had vanished. “It’s good for the team to be a little afraid of their captain and vice-captain.” He tried to fake it; there was nothing casual at all about that statement.

 

An eye-roll preceded his sigh. Suga already hated everything about this conversation. “Exactly, a  _ little  _ afraid. Daichi he shakes when you look at him.” There were so many reasons Suga hated having to force those words pasht his lips and none of them were ones he wanted to examine closely. Karasuno’s third years had woven a complex pattern with the threads of connection between themselves and maybe with a change here or there the tapestry could have been something beautiful. It was nothing but a tangled mess now. Suga honestly didn’t know if it would hurt more to leave it as-is or or to slowly pick each knot apart.

 

Scoffing, Daichi waved Suga’s words away dismissively. “Yamaguchi still squeaks every time he catches you looking at him.”

 

Rough and scraping, a growl clawed its way up Suga’s throat and it took real effort to choke it down. “And then he relaxes. And then - actually, you know what? This is so not the point.” He gave himself a minute to shut his eyes and pull in a deep breath. He knew what Daichi was doing and while the implication still bristled, he wouldn’t take the bait. “Asahi’s always been different and you know that.”

 

“He still feels guilty about quitting; it’ll get better.” The firm, decisive tone gave the statement the weight of command and expectation, a captain exercising his judgement. It was clear he meant that to be the end of the conversation.

 

Suga was laughing derisively before he’d even made the conscious decision to do so. Part of him was shrinking in horror at the realization he was challenging his captain - challenging  _ Daichi _ \- so aggressively. The rest of him, the assembled pieces that had made him pant out “one more” even when his arms were shaking with exhaustion at the end of recieving practice during first year, and never give up on talking Asahi into rejoining the team, and fight for every scrap of time on the court he could wrestle away from Kageyama despite being clearly outclassed - that part made him dig in even deeper. “No. It’s going to continue like it is now and get worse.”

 

Something hot and volatile sparked in Daichi’s eyes. “So what do you want me to do? Coddle him? Treat him differently because he’s our ace?” The dispassionate mildness he’d been forcing for most of this conversation had officially evaporated.

 

Refusing to let himself be cowed by Daichi’s anger, Suga snapped back at him; he was hurt and angry too. “I want you to work it out with him so that you can respect his individual needs. As his captain - and as his  _ friend, _ Daichi. He has to know that he has your support, personally, as a member of this team, not just the blanket support you give the team as a whole.”

 

“He knows I have his back.” The words were the softest and most defensive Daichi had been yet. He could have been trying to convince Suga or himself with them. They also served as a plea for mercy, begging Suga not to argue with him, not to shatter that belief even if it was a delusion.

 

A sick thrill twisted in Suga’s gut. He didn’t know how he could be both nauseous and cruelly satisfied at the thought of actually saying the words he knew needed to be voiced. “Does he? Can you say with absolute certainty that he knows you believe in him?” The instant they were out, Suga  _ ached _ to take it all back.

 

Aim true, Suga’s barb clearly found its mark. Daichi’s face crumpled in anguish and he floundered for something to say in a way he rarely did. “I-” Whatever he’d been trying to say died there, his mouth opening and closing a few times without producing any more sound.

 

Perversely, Daichi’s helpless pain, his  _ surprise _ , just added fuel to the embers beneath Suga’s breastbone. Flame roared to life and heat licked up his spine and laced itself through his words. “Can you say with absolute certainty that you’ve given him a reason to trust you and your commitment to him?” He wanted to burn Daichi, the way his captain made him burn and never even noticed he’d reduced Suga to nothing but ashes.

 

With a raised eyebrow, Daichi asked, “are you questioning my leadership abilities?” his voice shaking with repressed fury and a hint of disbelief.

 

Incredulity flooded Suga. “Don’t ask stupid questions. You know I’m not.” But then, maybe Daichi didn’t know that; maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe Suga was the only one being crushed beneath the weight of everything that went unsaid between the three of them.

 

Less overtly homicidal, and more simply boiling with rage, Daichi sneered. “Than what  _ are  _ you doing? Because from here it just sounds like you’re-”

 

So done with this conversation and the direction it had taken, Suga cut him off. “Why am I your vice-captain?”

 

Clearly that caught Daichi off guard and surprised him into a few beats of contemplative silence. He sounded calmer, surer, more like Daichi the Team Dad when he answered. “Because you see things I don’t. Because you’re talented. Because you work well with the team.” They were spoken like inarguable truths but colored with Daichi’s confusion at having to say them aloud and his lingering irritation.

 

“No.” Suga shut his eyes against the surge of emotion sweeping through him. Hearing Daichi speak so plainly about his value,  _ praising him _ , made him react the way it always did, pleasure shimmering across his nerve endings and making him flush. It was tempered by the utter  _ bewilderment _ he felt at that answer too. But that wasn’t what mattered right now. He had a point; there were things he needed to say and things Daichi needed to hear - for their sakes’ and the team’s. So he drew the bright feeling close and packed it away where he could take it out later and hold close.

 

“What?” Daichi croaked, confusion clearly mounting. He seemed entirely oblivious to his vice-captain’s struggle.

 

Suga looked up and met Daichi’s eye. He spoke steady and resolute, willing the conviction he felt about this to infuse every word passing his lips. “You’re the captain because you’re the one most capable of bearing the weight of supporting the team. I’m here to support  _ you _ ; I’m here to be the one that has  _ your  _ back. I’m the vice-captain because I’m going to do  _ everything _ I can to make you the best captain you can be.” Even if it ripped the still-beating heart out of his chest to do it.

 

His anger melting away like it’d never been, Daichi just looked tired and slightly lost now. He raked a hand through his hair roughly. “He has to do it on his own, Suga. I can’t - he can’t rely on me like that.” His look became beseeching, searching, like convincing Suga of that was vital to him. “We all need our own solid foundations so that we can help support each other.”

 

Embarrassingly, that had something worryingly close to a sob bubbling up Suga’s windpipe. How long had his own foundation been crumbling? He clenched his jaw against the need to let the wounded noise out. When the danger of humiliating himself had passed he let out a shuddering breath. Suga was suddenly bone-weary himself. “I’m not telling you to build that foundation for him; I’m telling you to make sure he doesn’t give up before he even starts because he thinks you’re going to tear it right back down.” He wondered if Daichi even knew how skilled he was at both building and destroying someone’s foundation.

 

Daichi flinched like Suga had actually struck him. His eyes swam with disbelief and something else pained. “I wouldn’t do that to Asahi. I wouldn’t do that to anyone on my team,” he whispered low, fierce. He pushed past Suga after, effectively ending the conversation by simply leaving.

 

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked the stillness left behind.


End file.
